19º Disaster Plans

19º F.

I thought I was ready.

I have contingency plans, back-up plans, in-case plans, and complete mega-disaster plans just in case the electricity goes out.  It's critical when one has 100 geckos, a 100 pound sulcata Frankie and a cat.

Two human beings count as well but mostly as instruments to implement said emergency plans.

It was just after 7:00 am. Greg had left for work.  I just got out of the shower and put on clothes for the day.  I was pouring my second cup of coffee.  The electricity went out.

"Oh, _______!" (fill in your favorite expletive).

Maybe it's just a brown-out.  How long do those last? A minute? Two?

Three minutes later and I am into all out panic and adrenalin explosion.  My concern is the gecko room where said geckos and Frankie currently reside.

How long do I have?  Due to his large 100 pound body mass Frankie can safely last more than 30 minutes.  Geckos maybe have 15 minutes before not-so-healthy things start happening.  The cat?  Cat wants me to chase her around the house.  Go away cat.

So, about all those emergency plans.  Yeah, got lots of emergency plans for the other house in Birmingham, the one we just moved out of.  This is the new house. I have four reptile shipping heat packs.

Going on eight minutes with no electricity.

We got a generator.

Put on coat and shoes.  Run to back yard to outdoor storage room.  Fiddle with keys tying to find the right one to open the door.  Realize I should have worn gloves.  Maybe a hat for the wet hair.

Time is ticking.  If the electricity isn't back on in 20 minutes things are going to get bad quick.

Open door and see all the stuff stacked in front of the generator including a lawn mower.  Throw all of it out the door.  Pull generator out of storage room.  Check gas. No gas. Doesn't matter. Can siphon gas out of car.

(Yeah, right)

Its tires are flat so I drag generator and empty gas can around the house to the front yard.  Realize that I can't pull or lift generator up front steps.  Realize thinking up an alternative solution will cost me time.  Grip stomach muscles, catty-womp generator up step and onto the front porch.

Okay.  Generator on porch.  Gas station is 5 minutes away. Ten minutes and I'll be back with gas. Haven't operated the generator in two years and I have the memory of a flea but figure pure adrenalin will make me smart enough to get it started.

How long has it been since electricity went out?   Probably fifteen minutes.  I don't know.  I just keep moving.

Go back inside house for my purse.  Cat wants me to chase her around the house. Go away cat.  Wait.  Maybe throw cat into gecko room for her mammal generated warmth.  Can't catch cat.  Oh, well, probably wouldn't help anyway.

Maybe I should comb my wet hair before going to gas station.

As I jog through the living room toward the bathroom, house lights come on, heater kicks on, and cat appears from under chair.

I go into the gecko room and take notice of the complete non-disaster before me. The temperature has dropped below 69º F.  Some of the geckos have darken up indicating low body temperatures but Frankie's back leg is peaking out from under his blanket.  Heat will be picking up quickly in the room.

An extended back leg on a sulcata is a sure sign that temperatures are in the comfort range. Still, with temperatures expected to hoover around freezing, I don't expect to see any more of Frankie than that foot.

That's good.  I am not going to have time for Frankie today.  I will be spending a great deal of my time today making sure there are disaster plans.

Home in Mobile

Mobile Bound in the back of a Toyota Prius.

Dreaming of sun, a big yard, grass, carrots and Rosie.

Hello, Mobile!  I have arrived!

What type of sorcery is this?  This is not my yard!

Better take me on a walk.

Can you keep up with me?

Fence building that couldn't happen sooner.

Is this my yard?

Yard taste really good.

All mine.

Giving out the Frankie Rules.

I think I'm gonna like it here.

Note:  Frankie managed to take off into the neighborhood twice, alone, so I put blue painter's tape on his shell that says "Please get me home" and my phone number.  As soon as the fence is completed I will consider taking it off.  

Dedicated to Brown Eyes who we left behind in Birmingham.  We hope you found a good home.

Something there is that doesn't love a wall

Eighteen days and still there is no fence.

Eighteen days doesn't sound like a long time does it?  To me it feels like forever.

When I was younger a horse threw me into a fence.  I bounced off the fence and slammed into the ground.  I didn't pass out but I lay there unable to breath for what felt like forever thinking I would never feel air in my lungs or oxygen in my brain ever again and I cursed that fence.

Probably that was the only time I didn't like a fence because I've had pets and animals all my life and a fence means safety and security for them.

Fences have broken my heart.  An inadequate fence was cause for a younger Frankie to disappear.  That 24 hour period felt like forever.

My best friend died and my mother died so I know a broken heart. Pets have passed and I felt I would never recover.   Boyfriends have broken from me and I thought I would never love again.

But when Frankie disappeared I felt bereft, broken hearted, and emotionally lost in such a way I knew I could never bear to go through that again.

So Frankie is microchipped, his yard has two security cameras, every neighbor in my area knows Frankie so they can be his watch dogs, he is the most photographed tortoise in Alabama, and he has blue painter's tape on his shell that says "Please return me" with my phone number.

I put my foot down and insisted that Frankie and I would not move to Mobile until a fence was installed.

We're in Mobile.  Still there is no permanent fence.

Frankie hasn't escaped and yet my heart is unsettled.  Greg's done his best by putting up a strong temporary fence in a small area by the house.  I've done my best to amuse Frankie by taking him on daily walks and providing an enriched living environment.

Frankie has various objects to walk around, things for him to push, his umbrella stand (of course), heated cave and his dogloo.  I have a chair to sit in.  There is even a big cement mixer (for future fence construction) for him to walk under.  I hung a black garden cloth on the temporary fence to block Frankie's view.

Frankie has turned his enriched living environment into a disaster area.

Frankie's area was clean this morning.

Frankie has pushed, shoved, walked over, toppled, rammed, dragged, and torn up everything!

Oh, I expected this.  I know Frankie and I know how Frankie acts in an area too small for a 100 pound sulcata tortoise.

Amazingly the temporary fence is holding up.

The temporary fence even held up when Frankie started to climb it.

I am not kidding.  Frankie gave up shoving and ramming the fence and decided to climb it.  All 100 pounds of him!

I caught him with two feet up on the fence in the box-turtle-escapee position.

Nobody is going to believe that Frankie did this.  I had my camera with me.  I wanted to get a photo of it.

Regretfully I couldn't move.  All the air in my lungs had escaped and I was paralyzed in disbelief.

I stood there what felt like forever watching Frankie attempting to wedge his back foot into the fence and I am wondering if I would ever feel air in my lungs or oxygen in my brain ever again.

When I finally caught my breath the next thing I did was yell, "Fraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnkkkkkkiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

Frankie backed down the fence, turned, and looked at me.  "Is it time for a walk?"

My heart felt prickly and shredded.

We gotta build that fence.